Christmas Out of the Trenches
by KatieTaylor
Summary: A continuation of my Vacation's Over 'verse. (Follows Blood Brothers) During Steve's first Christmas post-'retirement', he reflects back on Christmases past. (Or: Steve looks and thinks. Seriously, if you want something to actually happen in this fic, you're in the wrong place. lol)


**First, I do have a plan for one more chapter in Blood Brothers (with Tex the Dog). I had this idea at the same time, though and I figured that we're already a bit late for Christmas, best not to wait much longer!**

 **Second, no beta here because I wasn't even going to post this. I'm not sure what I think about it. But I made myself post it anyway. :)**

 **I am ignoring the 5** **th** **season Christmas episode, even though it happens before I veer off from canon. First because, it doesn't really work for this story, and it's my story, so there. :P Second because... Really? There ARE actually lines Steve won't cross and cutting down a tree in Hawaii that he's not supposed to cut down is one of them. Even for Danny. I can't imagine that ALLLL those times he's ragged on Danny for not respecting the land and the culture were fake and this is real. Nope, this didn't happen in KTCanon!**

* * *

Steve McGarrett could separate his life into five parts: his childhood (the good version); his childhood redux (the revised version); the military; the reserves; 'retirement'. The perfect look into each of those parts of his life was to think on Christmases past.

Back before his father died, Steve's memories of childhood Christmases were wonderful. They were perfect. Mary tearing the paper from the dollhouse his father had built from scratch; his mom carrying a tray of fresh cookies, still warm from the oven, and frosty-cold glasses of milk; Steve himself laying on the floor, putting together a model of the _Arizona_ ; his dad sitting in the old rocking chair, watching the scene around him with a smile teasing the corner of his mouth. They kept him going during the Academy, through BUD/s, across mountains and jungles and deserts that he sometimes wasn't sure he'd come back from. He thought of those Christmases – that happy, perfect family – and imagined he was fighting to make sure everyone else could have that same perfect family scene, whatever holidays they celebrated. He picked up the torch and fought for what his Grandfather, and so many others, didn't live long enough to see.

But then he found out the truth. The truth about his family, Doris, Wo Fat... so many betrayals. After those truths had come to light, he tried to regain that sense of purpose and thought back to those old Christmases. Except now the memories were different. Mary screamed at Doris for not letting her stay up late. Dad hid in the garage, working on the Marquis. Steve tried to show his mom the progress he'd made on his model while she ignored him to take a phone call. He imagined men in dark suits coming to the door to give her a new mission. He could no longer rely on those memories to fuel him; he couldn't see the perfect Christmases like he once did. The truth about his mother had tainted those memories so much they could never be fixed and he no longer knew which were real.

While those good childhood memories had fueled him during his time in Active Service, Christmases themselves only meant work. At first, he worked through the holidays because he was the low guy on the ladder. It didn't take long before the reason shifted to competition – to get ahead of the other guys on the ladder, to reach his goal of becoming a SEAL faster – his goal of making his father proud of him, at all costs. Once that goal had been attained – becoming a SEAL, if not the other – he continued the practice. He picked up all the extra work so the rest of his team could go home, see their family, or at least enjoy some downtime. Steve didn't care; he had no interest in seeing what was left of his family (they didn't seem to want to see him anyway) and downtime gave him too much time to think.

Then he came home to Hawai'i and everything changed. He had almost nothing _but_ downtime, at least, that's what it felt like at the time. Too much time to tink. That first year, they'd gone to Danny's for Christmas Eve to help the Jersey Cop give his daughter a special night. Then he'd gone home to his empty house, cleaned up more blood stains, patched more bullet holes, replaced more glass. Sometime after it got dark Christmas Day, he remembered to throw a frozen dinner in the microwave. After that, he reverted to his SEAL ways – going into the office, catching up on cases and paperwork over the holidays. When Cath was around, she tried to get him to come home to visit her family. The first year he begged off, citing plans with Danny (fake); the next, he said he'd meet her there but didn't make it before a big case came up (also fake). Once Chin was back in the family's good (or at least not horrible) graces, the cousins had tried to invite him to family celebrations. He said some old SEAL buddies were in town. They, of course, were invited as well, but Steve politely declined on their (fake) behalf.

So, it should be no surprise that Lt. Cdr. Steven J. McGarrett (Ret.) had almost no sweet clue what to do with the scene in front of him today. He leaned against the island in the kitchen, looking into the living room. The room looked like an IED had gone off inside it and under normal circumstances, the mess would have him obsessively trying to tidy it up. But... maybe that childhood Christmas spirit was starting to find its way back. Grace threw balled-up wrapping paper across the room. Tex barked and chased after it like it was a rare steak. The teenager screeched with laughter and chased after him. They were both too big to be running in the house, and together something was likely to get broken. There were half-empty bowls of snacks, empty pop cans and beer bottles strewn across various surfaces. Presents, mostly Grace's, of course, were scattered around the room in amongst the tattered remains of what was once colourful wrapping paper and now seemed to be very inexpensive dog toys.

This was Steve's first Christmas since officially leaving the Navy, the first time he'd spent Christmas Day with family since before his mom 'died'. This was his first reminder in twenty years of what Christmas was meant to be. It was the first time that the ghosts of Christmases past and present didn't haunt him and he actually looked to the future.

 _This_ was what Danny had meant when he said family, home, were what Steve needed to be happy.

Steve felt a light brush of fingers at his elbow before a warm mug of apple cider was pressed into his hands.

"Everything all right, babe?"

Steve turned to the blond and any concern Danny may have had disappeared, to be replaced with a grin as wide as the ex-SEAL's.

"Everything's perfect."

Danny took a long drink from his own mug, smirked, called Steve a goofball and then hollered after Grace when a lamp finally crashed to the floor.

Yup. Steve's life was pretty much perfect now.


End file.
